Forbidden Fruit
by Blondemidget
Summary: Daniel's past lives still remain a mystery to Lucinda Price. Even after the events of 'Tourment', there is still a small part of her soul which remembers each past life. Except one...What if Daniel's love for her wavered? And what if Cam was there for her instead of Daniel? Which is more stronger, love or hate?


The beginning would feel like the end, I'd been warned. But never this way.

I raised my trembling hands, watching my own blood trickle sluggishly onto the cavern floor. The sound of crashing waves whispered around the bleak walls of sleek granite. Pieces of my memory faded in and out of existence, as I tried to process why I was here, kneeling in a seaside cave, bleeding dangerously fast. A stab of harsh pain gripped me so violently, I fell onto the ledge, whimpering. I breathed in short, sharp pants, tasting the salty brine air of the night. I rolled over and clutched my stomach. That's when I saw it.

The sword.

A flutter of panic stroked through my body, making me cringe back automatically into a shadow. My body froze as the wan moonlight reflected off the metallic blade, casting diamond-like sparkles through the darkness. Why hadn't I noticed it before? It's beautiful sight wiped me clean of any thought as I gazed upon the delicate filigree of the golden hilt. But that wasn't why my muscles refused to move, why my heart pounded feverishly against my sweater, or why adrenalin coursed through my veins.

It was the scarlet stains of blood that splattered across the silver blade.

Panic continued to claw its way up my chest, causing me to jolt backwards further, until my back made contact with the cold, damp wall. I could feel my hands slide across the rough floor, leaving behind crimson trails.

The small part of my mind, the part that you only ever listened to in life or death situations, whispered three small words of guidence to me:

_Get out._ _Now._

That ominous feeling of being watched slivered up my back. I breathed in deeply, ignoring the sharp pain of my wound, as I tried to think how I would live another night. I looked around the dark space, where I had no recollection of who had slashed me, and why I was here. I gripped my bloodied hands into trembling fists, and with all the strengths I could summon, I heaved myself into a gut wrenching stand.

Dizziness and fatigue spiked my foggy sences, caressed with a searing pain. I cried out, and stumbled against the wall, using the callused edges as a support for my weary body.

I heard the blood drip ominously from the entrance.

My sensitive ears detected the sound of a footstep from my far right. I whipped my head around and, acting on instinct, hugged the wall with my body, my face turning toward the threat. A hiss escaped out of my parched lips in a natural deterrant, as my eyes raked the inky blackness.

The man grinned eerily out of the shadows.

For those first few seconds of revilement, I felt dread overshadow the panic, replaced by an unnatural calm. Using my adrenalin shaped senses, I gazed at his appearance through the black. I jolted back against the stone.

He was beautiful.

His eyes, the colour of fired ice, sparkled out of the gloom. Tousled gold hair framed his oval face, and cocky expression, as he cupped a tanned hand to his side. Blood wept through his black shirt, creating a large, wet stain, defining a well-toned stomach.

A shudder went through me and I collapsed on the floor. My eyes found him again and was choked speechless.

He had wings.

Midnight black and delicately feathered, they hugged the sides of his body perfectly, like a second skin. They unfurled as my eyes touched them, extending to their fullest length. As the moonlight caressed them, they emitted a green, pearly sheen that dazzled my eyes.

He sighed gently and stepped forward.

"You're a better fighter than I thought. Looks can be deceiving" he indicated the wound on his side with a nod. I couldn't speak.

He smiled hauntingly in my direction.

"You don't remember anything do you, Diana?"

I flinched. That was my name?

He chuckled and picked up the sword noiselessly. It caught the light with a copper hue. I looked at him blankly.

He chuckled loudly this time, the echoes vibrating in the still air.

"As to be expected from the spell that binds the Sword. The first person it draws blood from will develop amnesia", He looked at me thoughtfully and smirked. I felt nauseous.

"It's better that way for you. And for me" He laughed again, the sound sweet like honey dew. I shivered.

"Who are you? Why am I here?" The sound that emitted from my direction was a pitiful croak. I hadn't spoken in a long time.

His eyes glinted in the moonlight.

"Don't worry. Your memory will return to you in time. By then it will be to late" He seemed to almost glide as he drifted into the direction of the ragged entrance. Unfurling his magnificent wings again, he threw a satisfied look at the night sky. I couldn't take my eyes off the soft feathers as I asked him more questions.

"Too late for what? Who are you?" I glared at his back, gripping my hands again.

He half turned toward me, catching my eyes against my will.

"As for the second question, I'm Stark." He smiled mischievously and winked. I just glared.

"For the first…well I'll give you a clue. I want Nephilium blood" He bared his teeth and his icy eyes flashed. I blinked and the expression was gone. I broke out in a sweat.

"Nephilium blood?" The term was unfamiliar to me, just like his entire being.

"Are you an Angel?"

The question seeped him off guard for a millisecond, a tightening around his brilliant eyes confirmed that. He took a deep breathe and the fire in his eyes cooled into a flat sapphire colour.

"You'll find out in time."

He advanced towards the entranced for the second time. Acting on desperation I called out.

"Please, don't leave me!" fear blossomed over, extinguishing the calm. My lower lip trembled and a tear trickled down my cheek.

He was suddenly there by my side. One minute he was standing four meters away, the next four centimetres. The air was as still as before, no movement gave away his position. I flinched back, jarring my wound wickedly. His beautiful face was three centimetres from mine. I inhaled his exotic scent. Honey dew, jasmine and…a spicy tanginess? I shook my head and withdrew further.

The flat pools in his eyes suddenly flared with warmth. An expression softened his rosy mouth. I had never seen it before I opened my eyes and saw this world full of blood, darkness and sea brine. My mind couldn't label it.

As I watched him carefully, his hand reached out and touched my cheek, riping away the tear.

"I've never seen you cry before. It's…sad" He hesitated before straightening from his crouch. My mind was blank.

He murmured something ineligible, and a soft glow burst from his cupped hand and swam before my eyes, blinding me.

As my head hit the floor, and I began to loose conciseness, I heard the rush of wings, the smell of Stark's scent, and the warm embrace of a pair of arms.

I didn't resurface.


End file.
